


there lies a trail of fire behind us

by BowAndDagger



Series: you'll arrange the stars to lead me home [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Curse of Hatred - Freeform, Don't copy to another site, Except Zetsu, Fix-It, Founders Era, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Madara rolls with it, POV Uchiha Madara, Pre-Slash, clan wars era, genderfluid!naruto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-01-27 19:57:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21397810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BowAndDagger/pseuds/BowAndDagger
Summary: As he returns from a mission, Madara makes a strange encounter with an even stranger shinobi. Then, he’s summarily kidnapped to go on a quest to save the world by said weird shinobi.(He absolutely did not choose to follow the stranger on his own free will. He was kidnapped. He did not give chase. He did not.)
Relationships: Pre-Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara/Uzumaki Naruto, Pre-Senju Tobirama/Uzumaki Naruto, Pre-Uchiha Madara/Uzumaki Naruto, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara & Uzumaki Naruto, Senju Tobirama & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Madara & Uzumaki Naruto, pre-Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: you'll arrange the stars to lead me home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546594
Comments: 61
Kudos: 1163
Collections: Bunch of fics I'll keep reading forever!!!, Fics that made me happy 2020, Foxy fox 🦊, Lovely Pieces, Naruto Fix-its, Time Travel Fics





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Streets of Gold" by Aviators. (Both "Streets of Gold" and "Find Me" (Rewind version) by Aviators are great for Time Travel/Fix-It fics!)
> 
> (I swear I'm working on the next instalment of "Wind Howls, River Roars" but this idea hit me out of nowhere and just wouldn't shut up!)
> 
> Enjoy!

The verdant prairies of Grass country are beginning to sprout with the trees of Fire country’s great forests when Madara becomes aware of a disturbance.

He’s not a great sensor, never was and never will be – not like Hashirama’s little brother who is rumoured to be able to reach the whole of Fire country – but he’s decent at it. Decent enough to be able to detect any chakra in a five mile radius. Decent enough to be able to gauge said chakra and identify its wielder if he already met them before.

Enough to realise the one coming straight at him is an unknown shinobi with twice as much chakra as Hashirama.

The realisation startles him so much he almost stumbles over an upturned root. In his mind’s eyes, the stranger is making a beeline towards him with no attempt of hiding their presence. Their chakra is warm. And bright. So bright it eclipses Hashirama’s. And Madara had often compared his old friend’s presence to the sun, if only in the privacy on his own mind.

That stranger, powerful and of unknown origins, is a threat. Maybe. Probably. Knowing his luck, that stranger is the personified end of the Uchiha clan.

Madara takes a breath, then another. He’s alone with no back-up. The Uchiha Compound is at least two days’ worth of travel from the Grass-Fire border. No one would be expecting him for one full week; his mission being both easier and shorter than expected. He’s exhausted, from the travel and the mission itself – easier, yes, but still full of politics and intrigues and enemies to fight. If he gets killed here, no one will know for a while.

But Madara can’t flee. Even if it means he'll die here. Not when the stranger could be after the Uchiha as a whole and not just him as the current clan heir. If it comes to this, he’s going to ensure he’ll die and take that shinobi down with him.

That doesn’t change the fact that Madara doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this encounter if the stranger proves willing to fight. His fights with Hashirama are more spars than real battles. And sparring with the man is already hard enough, thank you. Add to that his current exhaustion and Madara…Madara has no idea how he will fare against a shinobi with an unknown skill set and who is more powerful than the Mokuton user.

The Uchiha only gets a few moments to reflect on the situation before, in what feels like no time at all, the stranger is upon him. Madara jerks back, sharingan spinning to life and catching a glimpse of a hooded, long brown travel coat and a painted Noh mask under the hood. The coat hides the body of the stranger but his eyes analyses how they move quickly enough – the positions of their arms as they thrust forward, how they angle their chest and where their centre of gravity must be – to realise they must be male.

Madara throws himself away from him, a Katon already blooming on his lips. But the shinobi isn’t targeting the Uchiha. The shakujo he wields like a spear is thrust forward with deadly precision, so fast that even his sharingan can’t follow its trajectory and catches _something_ above Madara’s left shoulder. The hooded shinobi tightens his grip on his weapon before wrenching it away from them, throwing whatever he caught as far as possible.

A black mass of sludge flops on the ground accompanied by an unholy shriek. Madara doesn’t have time to even blink at the thing in bewilderment: the stranger hip-checks him to the side before pouncing on the slime-creature. Madara stumbles back – offended at being _hip-checked_ of all things and so casually at that: the man hadn’t even looked at him – before he lets himself falls on the ground when he sees why. He rolls away just in time to avoid being impaled by black branches. He can't quite stop his gasp of shock. This thing has Mokuton!

By the time the Uchiha has rolled back to his feet, the masked shinobi has the Mokuton-slime-creature surrounded by glowing seals. They’re everywhere, looking as if carved in the soft earth, or floating in the air. The stranger’s chakra explodes in a supernova of power. It bursts outward like the great fireworks Madara once saw in the Capital. The presence covers the Uchiha like a warm blanket; it’s not crushing or threatening in any way – not to Madara – but it has the potential to be.

The explosion is not just one of power but one of light as well. It takes Madara a few blinks before he can safely open his eyes with no black dots obscuring his vision. He looks around only to find the glowing seals gone – the jutsu must have been activated – and the battle over with without his help.

A jingling sound brings his attention back to the shinobi. At the back of his mind, Madara notes with surprises that the shakujo slung over a shoulder has nine rings instead of the usual four, six or twelve. That observation is quickly forgotten in favour of noticing that the man’s attention is on his shaking hand. Except not exactly. The Uchiha tenses when he realises that the man’s hand isn’t shaking, the sealed scroll he’s clutching is. He boggles at it for a moment – watching as it jerks and shakes and gives its utmost best at escaping its prison of paper – before starting when he sees the hooded shinobi’s masked face is turned towards him. The Uchiha wants to kick himself for losing tracks of his surroundings like that: such a beginner’s mistake! Instead, and to hide his unease, he bristles, defensive.

The stranger tilts his head to the side. The animal ears at the top of his Noh mask give the movement a primal, almost eerie, feeling. Madara feels a shiver travelling down his back. His unease intensifies.

“Please, tell me you’re one of those Uchihas gifted with Amaterasu.”

Madara chokes and flails. What?! How?! Amaterasu is a secret clan technique! Who is this stranger to know an Uchiha secret? _How_ does he know? Madara is one step away from screeching his questions when the scroll almost jumps from the shinobi’s hold. He seems to flinch from his own hand, holding it as far away from his body as possible, before his grip becomes bruising, crumpling the paper.

The Uchiha comes to a stop, contemplating the situation. That slime-creature has the Mokuton and is sufficiently sneaky enough to be standing right next to Madara without him sensing it. How many of his clansmen killed by Mokuton technics had been that thing’s victims and not Hashirama’s? How many times has he refused Hashirama’s offers of peace because he thought him to be a murderer and a double-faced liar? If that thing was willing to frame the Senjus, then maybe it had framed Uchihas as well. How much has that creature manipulated? The black Mokuton-thing can’t possibly be human therefore he must have been around for a long time, decades or centuries, maybe since the beginning of the Uchiha-Senju war…

With rising suspicions accumulating at the back of his mind, Madara suddenly knows without a single doubt that thing is a threat. The stranger…may not be. He hasn’t made any threatening move towards him and the only contact between them had been to push Madara out of harm’s way. If that attack had hit, he would have certainly be heavily injured and made vulnerable. The perfect opportunity to get rid of the Uchiha clan heir… Except he hadn’t. Had, in fact, gone out of his way to protect Madara.

As long as the hooded shinobi proved to be no enemy, Madara is willing to consider him an ally, albeit a temporary one. That said, he is still going to keep an eye on him until he’s sure of his intentions.

After a disgruntled huff, his sharingan swirls to life, quickly transforming into the mangekyo. The scroll bursts into black flames. To Madara’s surprise, the shinobi doesn’t let go of it immediately, keeping a careful grip on the thrashing scroll until the fire begins to lick at his fingers. Then he throws it into a wide arc. By the time the ball of flames hits the ground, there is no paper in sight. Madara is quick to cancel his jutsu, leaving behind a few singed blades of grass.

It feels like some kind of great burden has been lifted from his shoulders. He feels light and the world around him seems…livelier, somehow. More colourful. Vibrant. _Hopeful_.

From the way the hooded shinobi is looking at the forest around them, he seems to be feeling the same way.

“What was that thing?” Madara’s question might have come off a bit harsh if the way the man's shoulders twitch is of any indication. He’s not sorry; for something’s death to have so much impact on the atmosphere… He's really glad to see it gone for good.

The shinobi hums, head tilted to the side. The Uchiha has a feeling the man is blinking at him as if he’s only now remembering he’s not alone.

“A manipulative pest.”

That answer is not much of one but Madara’s going to take it. The tone of it – harsh and biting and so full of old anger – is enough of one. It gives reason to his suspicions. He’s going to have to convince his clan, though. But in the light of how they were manipulated, how the very air is now light and pure where before it had felt oppressive… He’ll manage to sway them, he’s sure of it.

Madara has the impression he could move mountains. Suddenly his old dream of peace doesn’t seem to be so unattainable. His heart is so full of hope it might explode. It’s been so long since he last experienced it that he had forgotten its sweet and heady taste.

When he redirects his attention to the stranger, he hides a flinch: the masked man is still watching him. Shinobi are trained from birth to detect attention directed towards them and yet, Madara had felt nothing.

Another head tilt from the shinobi makes him twitch in aggravation.

“You are…different from what I expected…”

Madara’s only answer to that in an arched eyebrow. He’s well aware of his reputation as the fire demon of the Uchiha clan; a reputation built upon misdirection and the whispers of ignorant civilians.

“Younger, too.”

At that, Madara chokes, offended.

“I’m seventeen, you arsehole!” He flails around, eyes wide and cheeks lightly dusted red by anger – _not_ embarrassment.

And seventeen is old for a shinobi. Few manage to survive until their fifteen years, after all. The most powerful of them last until their third decade, if that. Only the most canny and spiteful live to old age. To be called ‘young’…Madara has no idea if it was intended as an insult or a compliment.

The stranger’s shoulders shake once, twice, as he doesn’t manage to completely suppress his chuckles.

“So _that_ is the infamous Uchiha Flailing…” Then, he mutters so low Madara barely hears him: “Sasuke never…”

The Uchiha bristles, ready to give him hell. The hooded shinobi tilts his head to the other side, suddenly focused on Madara in a way that stops the Uchiha in his tracks. Hashirama tends to focus on him like that just before attempting to tackle-hug him. He backs away slowly. Being hugged by his old friend is one thing. Being hugged by an unknown entity – a potential _threat_ – is another.

Then, the shinobi coos. _Coos_! Complete with a big, loud “Awww!” and his hands pressed against his masked cheeks.

(His face is covered by a Noh mask painted in the likeness of a _fox_. Somehow, that realisation seems crucial, life changing in some way. A shiver crawls its way down Madara's back. he doesn't know if it's one of dread or something else.)

Before Madara can explode in indignation, the man is in front of him, one hand at the bottom of his mask and beginning to pull it off. The Uchiha catches a glimpse of tanned skin marked by three whiskers-like marks on each cheek before there are lips on his temple.

Madara absolutely does not squeak. He. Does. Not. What he does is shout in – manly – outrage and attempt to squash under his gunbai that…that fiend!

Said fiend jumps back, his whole body shaking of bright laughter and, to Madara’s great indignation, still cooing.

“Awww! You’re adorable!”

That’s it.

Madara is going to kill him.

He gives chase with a growl bumbling in his chest.

He does not think of smooth skin or of a devastating smile hiding being a porcelain mask. He definitely does not think of a bright and warm chakra that surrounds him like the greatest and comfiest of hugs. He does not. Which is why his cheeks aren’t red. And even if they are, it isn’t because he’s blushing. That shinobi is just infuriating and he’s angry.

(In the forest where the verdant prairies of Grass begin to transform into the great trees of Fire, laughter travels on the wind. The breeze stirs the branches like the waves of some green sea and the leaves sing.

Peace is blooming.)


	2. Kitsune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS:**  
**1.** Discussion of period pain. Although it's not in great details (just mentioned), I prefer to put the warning here.  
**2.** Genderfluid character. In which Kitsune/Naruto is genderfluid and Madara rolls with it. Don't like, don't read.  
**2.1** This fic is from Madara's point of view; he's going to refer to Naruto/Kitsune as he/him when he has a male body or when referring to an event when Naruto/Kitsune was male.  
**2.2** The inverse will happen when Naruto/Kitsune has a female body (she/her).  
**2.3** When referring to Naruto/Kitsune in general/hypothetical situations/not knowing which gender they are at the moment, Madara will use they/them.
> 
> \-----  
Thank you for your comments!
> 
> Enjoy!

It takes the better part of three days for Madara to realise he’s falling in love hard and fast and with no bottom to crash on in sight.

He’s falling in love with someone whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he has never seen.

He’s falling in love with someone whose appearance and gender change at will.

The chase had ended up with the Shinobi lounging on Madara’s back, radiating smugness, while the Uchiha attempted to catch his breath. Not only was he fast, but he was also sneaky and canny and prone to pranks. A few of those prank-traps he had stumbled upon during the pursuit would be deadly if he ever exchanged those pots of paint by some weapon.

So, here he was, covered in paint and leaves and twigs and so exhausted he couldn’t even sit up. He had groaned, let his head fall to the ground and felt his body relaxing into a slight doze despite the presence at his back.

Two hours later and an exchange of fresh fruits – which Madara had eaten without even checking them for poison first, to his great dismay – and Madara had begun to call him Kitsune. Originally, it had been because of his Noh mask painted in the likeness of a fox. The animal suits him; probably because of the pranks, general upbeat personality and deadliness if crossed.

(That deadliness is very, very attractive. If Madara ever brings him back to the Uchiha compound with him, he’ll have to beat his clansmen (and women) away with a stick. Or several Katon, if they get too insistent.

And that's without seeing his face! The little of it Madara has seen is really pretty, though.

Powerful, deadly, pretty and as tactile as any Uchiha? Madara is _doomed_.)

The newly-dubbed Kitsune just laughed, made a hand-sign and a puff of smoke later the Uchiha had a woman in front of him. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Kitsune was still wearing the same coat, the same mask and sandals. But there was just the slightest hint of curves on her chest, the littlest change in how she moved and breathed and held herself. When she had tilted her head to the side like an inquisitive animal – like a fox – Madara had had the distinct impression she had been smiling at him with all of her teeth.

That’s when he started to fall for Kitsune.

(He is doomed and he's fine with that.)

That’s also why he started following her around; or him, depending on the day or hour. Kitsune switches between genders like they are clothes. They do the same thing with appearances; alternating between helpless civilian, calm farmer and silent hunter or demure housewife, fierce miko and proud kunoichi with nary a thought. What’s more, these changes aren’t simple henge: there are total, solid transformations.

Kitsune had giggled when Madara had realised that little fact.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

She whirls away from him with a tilting laugh, deftly disentangling her long blue hair from his fingers. Her takenaga[1] remains in his hand. He examines it; it seems real enough. A bit hesitant, he ties his hair with it. It works. The ribbon is solid.

“Of course it’s solid, silly! Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because it’s not supposed to be! Henge is a low-grade genjutsu! An illusion! And illusions are not solid!” He sputters, his mind still trying to make sense of what he is seeing versus what he had always known. Even with his sharingan activated, he can’t make the difference between the real Kitsune and one of their henge-disguises.

She blinks at that, genuinely baffled.

“Oh, I’ve always been horrible at genjutsu… I never thought…”

Of course she’d have trouble with genjutsu what with her high reserves of chakra. Fine chakra control is already hard enough to attain without reserves the size of the sun to contend with.

But a solid henge? What did she do? Flood the jutsu with chakra until it worked just because of her sheer power of will?! Actually…that sounds like something Kitsune would do.

“Do you want to learn it?” She asks, as if offering to teach a personal jutsu to someone she has only known for a few days is a normal thing to do. (It’s not. In fact, it’s never done. Not when wars could break alliances with no warnings and the only one you could trust is your family.)

Madara doesn’t hesitate and says ‘yes’. It sounds interesting, if only to see how her chakra moves to answer her call. His sharingan spins to life as he pays careful attention to her hand-sign and to her chakra pathways.

With a puff of smoke, her appearance changes and Madara feels himself blanch. Kitsune stands before him wearing the face of a young man with tanned skin and a horizontal scar slashing across his nose. That’s not the new look that makes him pale; it’s the technique.

  1. The amount of chakra needed is _phenomenal_. Madara doesn’t think he’d be able to hold off in a battle after casting it; probably half his reserves would be gone;
  2. Technically the chakra cost isn’t a problem on the long term as it only needs a trickle of chakra to maintain the disguise on. It would be really easy to stay with the henge for weeks, if not months, at a time. Provided, of course, that no fighting occurs;
  3. That particular version of the henge is a total overhaul of the body. Madara has seen truly horrible things during his life as a shinobi, has recorded some thanks to his sharingan. But he doesn’t think he will ever forget seeing Kitsune’s skin – and probably her bones and organs though he’d need a Byakugan to be sure – shatters before reforming into its new shape. All in the span of milliseconds.

Kitsune looks alright, not in any pain whatsoever and his chakra feels normal, still as bright and warm as ever. Either he doesn’t feel pain when he uses the jutsu or he has the highest level of pain tolerance the Uchiha has ever seen.

Madara is never going to use it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He blurts out before wincing. _Tact, Madara!_ He can hear his mother scolding him. _Use it!_

“Well, not usually?” Kitsune answers with an arched eyebrow. “Though,” he continues before Madara can start to check him for injuries, “I’m only in pain when I stay more than a month in a female body, that’s when I start menstruating.”

“Mens…Menstruating?!” Madara knows his voice is faint and ends in a high note. He doesn’t care.

Unaware of his state of shock, the man nods seriously, “Yep! And it hurts like hell, too! I have the utmost respect for all female. And I’m never laughing at a woman during their time of the month because it’s horrible and no one deserves to be mocked for enduring such hardship.”

Madara whimpers. Then he recalls thinking Kitsune has probably high pain tolerance. He blanches and staggers. He will _never ever_ use that jutsu.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Aside from that particular conversation – Madara still shudders when thinking about it – they’d continued their journey with no other ‘discoveries’.

(He very much admires his companion thumbing their nose at gender norms – especially when Kitsune takes the appearance of a small wraith of a girl to go confront a group of burly men harassing two women.

Madara may have been close to a heart attack when he’d looked aside for one second and then lost track of him, only to find her in an alley, all of two feet tall, and cheerfully punching pigs in human form in the groin.

The harassers had been handed to the authorities while Kitsune explained – in great details – to her new female friends how to defend themselves by aiming at the throat or groin of their attackers. All the men around them had been rather green around the gills.

Madara had just laughed. While the shinobi were not free of sexism, it was less intense than in civilian areas. At the very least, shinobi tended to listen when told ‘no’; those who didn’t did not last long, either by being taken out by the kunoichi they wronged or simply because they somehow ended up on a minor mission without importance with faulty Intel.

(Having dissidents in the ranks is a nightmare no clan head wants to deal with. Shinobi life is already hard enough without worrying about a comrade forcing themselves on you when your back is turned.)

So, Madara is in awe of his friend switching genders with ease and not conforming to any rules or stereotypes. But that do not stop him from being slightly terrified of Kitsune for those same reasons.

It’s no surprise that he falls in love a little bit more.

Deadly, terrifying things are like catnip for Uchihas, after all.)

In the following days, Kitsune stops at every shrine – big or small – near them to… to… Actually, Madara has no idea what Kitsune does. Praying? Blessing? Some sort of exorcising?

Whatever he does has the same effect as when he destroyed that black Mokuton-slime-thing: the atmosphere becomes lighter. Each time the change is almost imperceptible; by comparison, the first time had been like a slap to the face.

Also, each time, before Kitsune leaves the shrine, there is a slight cracking sound, like something crumbling. But Madara never sees anything breaking.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

At least once a day or after a particularly long stay at a shrine, Kitsune meditates.

Madara’s never been good at that skill. Almost no Uchihas ever are. Too impatient, too angry, too _fiery_.

(Fire is never still.)

But Kitsune… Kitsune seems made for it. Every time, they revert to their masked appearance – however, it’s a toss-up between male or female, it doesn’t seem to matter. Hood up and shakujo floating in front of them, they go still. Everything about them still: their body, their breathing, even their chakra. It’s eerie.

It’s also weirdly beautiful.

(Madara goggled at the weapon for a long time when he first saw it float. He even shook his hand under and above it to check if something was holding it up. There was nothing.)

(Madara also checked a mark under the ‘deadly’ category when he discovered Kitsune was a Sage. He fell a little bit more head over heels in love.

He can’t wait to present them to his clan. His mother will adore them!)

[1] Takenaga : a ribbon made of Japanese washi paper traditionally worn by miko (cf. matcha-jp.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter was easy to write compared to the first...
> 
> Also, no, Kitsune/Naruto is not in pain when performing that henge (which is a less pervy/sexy version of the Oiroke). Whether or not it's because of high pain tolerance, the Kyuubi or just because there is no pain at all...
> 
> First time writing a genderfluid character from an external POV; if there's confusion, don't hesistate to tell me!
> 
> There may be a third chapter and even a fourth (from Naruto's POV)... Maybe. It'll depend on my muse's cooperation.  
...  
How do you feel for Mada/Naru/Tobi? (cuz' apparently that's where my mind is going...)


	3. Interruption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobirama interrupts the <strike>honeymoon</strike> journey!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! The chapter count is now four for sure! This one is technically chapter 3 part 1 because the beginning of part 2 is being difficult and doesn’t want to be written!  
The planed fourth-now-fifth chapter (maybe) from Naruto's POV will (maybe) be put as the second part of the series (MAYBE) because I'm foreseeing it as a bit longer than the other chapters and because the tone will be a bit different... We'll see!
> 
> (Also I really REALLY hate writing dialogues)

It takes Madara two weeks to realise he hasn’t once thought to go back to his clan – or to send word of his location and well-being, for that matter.

That realisation comes in the form of a furious white-haired Senju who literally tackles him away from the main street and drags him into an alley.

“You!”

Kitsune, who had been explaining one of her missions – involving a demon-cat, of all things – follows them at a more sedate pace, head tilted to the side like she does each time she finds something puzzling or interesting.

Madara shouldn’t find this quirk adorable. Especially since the shinobi often looks at him in this manner – he hopes it’s because she finds him fascinating and not because she thinks he’s entertaining.

A yank at his collar brings him back to the situation at hand. He can’t meet the red eyes glaring at him as the younger man is looking at his forehead. That’s not new: all Senjus are taught from a young age to never look an Uchiha in the eyes. And Tobirama has always followed that rule to the letter.

(Hashirama had once looked into his eyes, a long time ago, when he was just his moronic friend. Then he learned Madara’s full identity.

The Uchiha had seen Hashirama attempts to meet his eyes, before catching himself and focusing on his forehead or nose instead.

Madara has never admitted to his clan the only reason he never caught the Senju heir in a genjutsu is because he’s the one looking away each time Hashirama forgets himself.)

The white-haired Senju shakes him one more time before releasing him with a sound of disgust.

“I can’t believe you!” He snarls, “I can’t believe _this_!” He adds, gesturing at the Uchiha.

Madara looks down at himself; he’s in a simple yukata, weapons hidden and armour stored away. Apart from his civilian appearance, there is nothing out of the usual.

“Your brother,” Tobirama hisses, “and your clan have been harassing us for _the last week_ because they somehow got into their thick heads that _we_ are responsible for _your_ _disappearance_!”

Those last words are not shouted but they may as well have been.

Madara can feel his back hits the wall as he cringes back. He has never seen the man this furious. In fact, he’s not sure if anyone has ever seen him either. Izuna has always claimed the white-haired Senju to be cold. Emotionless.

Clearly, his little brother is wrong.

“Yet,” the Senju continues, his voice so cold it makes the Uchiha shiver, “Here you are, _frolicking_ in the streets!”

Madara bristles. Yes, he may have forgotten to inform his clan of what he was doing but he is not frolicking!

He and Kitsune are doing…

Actually, he has no idea what they are doing, beyond travelling, sight-seeing and some praying/exorcising. That doesn’t stop him from snapping back:

“I do not ‘frolic’!”

Tobirama scowls right back before gesturing once again at his body:

“You’re dressed and acting like a civilian, walking down the street while your family is going insane from worry! What should I call it other than frolicking? Cavorting? Shirking your duties?”

The Uchiha grimaces, affronted at the idea of deliberately 'shirking his duties' or abandonning his clan. He is sorry for making Izuna and his clan worried for his well-being but he's sure they'd understand: Kitsune is more than worth it.

He smirks when a thought crosses his mind.

“Why? Were you worried for me, Senju?”

“As if!” is the peeved reply, “Hashirama has been moping and crying since your brother stormed into our compound while hurling accusations and looking for you. I want my peace back!”

A gasp interrupts their glaring contest.

“Wow! Were you really going to use that seal?!”

Tobirama freezes up for all of one millisecond before springing back. One of his hands darts towards his weapon pouch. What he’s searching for must be missing because he rounds up on Kitsune with a snarl.

Madara wisely takes a step back. He once got between their archivist and an old scroll by accident, never again. He can recognise the look of an angry researcher.

During their discussion, Kitsune must have transformed as he is now back to his masked appearance and male, instead of the young seamstress he was earlier. In fact, it may explain why the Senju didn’t react to his presence: civilians are rarely threats to shinobi and even more rarely register as a threat to their senses. Tobirama must have dismissed him as a civilian.

(To be able to deceive Tobirama’s sensing despite the amount of chakra Kitsune has…

Madara really, really wants to swoon, right here, right now, and only the presence of the Senju stops him. But he's _that_ close; so close that he wavers a bit, very glad that the younger has his back turned.

He _is_ bringing back Kitsune to his clan.)

Kitsune is also holding a stack of sealing tags. Madara blinks. He had kept an eye on his friend as Tobirama confronted him and he hadn’t seen him moving. And he certainly had not seen him reach into the weapon pouch of a highly-trained shinobi. A sensor, at that!

“See?” He asks as if the Senju is not glaring at him with murder in his eyes. “That left matrix on the second level of the fourth dimension is wobbly. You’d risk a headache at best and dismembering at worst if you activate that seal.”

Tobirama snatches all of them back with a growl. But he does examine one, almost grudgingly.

As the silence lengthens, Kitsune begins to balance on the balls of his feet, arms up behind his head, appearing unbothered by the mounting tension.

“…You’re right,” The Senju murmurs, looking reluctantly impressed. “Thank you for warning me.”

There is a new spark in his eyes that Madara doesn’t like because it looks very much like interest.

He wants to bristle and snarl but he can’t. Kitsune is not his, as much as the Uchiha wants him to be and it’s not like he made his intentions clear, anyway. He huffs, feeling his lips form a pout against his will.

His friend’s shoulders shake; his mirth at Madara’s reaction evident.

(He’s not feeling proud of himself from provoking such a fond reaction. He’s not.)

“You’re welcome!” Kitsune…beams, that the only word for it. He must be smiling and Madara _wants_ to see it.

That smile the first time they met had been _lethal_. And Madara has already several plans to set that mask on fire just to be able to see the rest of Kitsune’s face. He wonders what colour his eyes are…

Madara gives his mind two seconds to lose itself into daydreams, before shaking his head to clear it.

Tobirama and Kitsune’s heads are now leaning close together as they study another of the Senju’s seals.

Madara huffs and stomps towards them, more than annoyed at them for ignoring him. Sure, he knows nothing of the sealing arts but still, they could’ve invited him to join the conversation instead of outright excluding him.

He knows how to make an explosive tag or how to draw a chakra suppressant seal but that’s about it and it’s mostly thanks to the sharingan copying the lines. He has no understanding of the symbols or why that particular squiggle is more important than the other and has to be placed in that corner instead of the one under it. Also, ‘level’? ‘Dimension’? Seals are written on a piece of paper. Paper is flat. How can there be a dimension or different levels?

He grumbles when they don’t even react to his approach. When several minutes pass without them acknowledging him, he leans against the nearest alley wall with another huff. This is going to be long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit less flailing in this one^^  
Tobirama's here, shows interest and Madara gets a tiny bit jealous^^!  
Is Kitsune/Naruto oblivious? Who knows...


	4. Curse of Hatred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara.exe crashes, hard.  
Kitsune is amused.  
Tobirama is interested.  
And there's finally some explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments!
> 
> This chapter has been really hard to write. I like the first part but the rest... I'm not entirely satisfied.
> 
> A big part of this chapter hints at what happened to Naruto when he founds himself in the past but doesn't explain everything. If you don't want spoilers for that part of the series, I suggest you wait a bit for part 2 to be posted before reading this chapter...
> 
> Enjoy!

‘Long’ had been an understatement. Five hours later and they are just beginning to emerge from their little world.

After a while, tired of standing still and doing nothing, Madara had left to shake his legs and to seek out food. The only food stall that hadn’t been serving rotting food and hadn’t looked on the verge of crumbling in ruins had been the imo yaki one. The seller, a mousy young man, had been wary during their whole interaction – making Madara glad to have dressed as a civilian. He’d wolfed down two sweet potatoes before ordering six more for Kitsune – who, he’d noticed, had a big appetite – and, after a bit of deliberation, four more. He was still hungry, so one for him and three for Tobirama. If he’d judged the Senju right then he was like his grand-uncle Kisuke who often forgot to eat when caught in one of his projects.

When he’d come back, neither Kitsune nor Tobirama had moved. They were still huddled together in the alley and still absorbed into their discussion.

The two idiots hadn’t even looked up when offered the baked sweet potatoes. Madara had to nudge them repeatedly a few times to remind them to finish their meal before it would’ve become cold. And they still hadn’t realised he was even there! Or that he had ever left, for that matter! In fact, he’s pretty sure he could have declared his intention to rule the world, destroy the moon and propose on bent knees to them _both_ and they’d have merely hummed before returning to their debate!

He huffs when they look at him at long last.

“Finally! I was wondering if I’d have to drag the both of you to the nearest inn or leave you to your fate!”

He wouldn’t have just left, of course. He certainly wouldn’t have left Kitsune alone with the Senju when their two clans are at war… But those two don’t need to know that.

Kitsune tilts his head, radiating amusement. He knows, of course he does.

Tobirama, however, glares.

“Oh? Was the conversation too much for you to handle, Uchiha?”

“You can keep studying your seals in the cold if you want, Senju,” Madara hisses, bristling, “but if you think I’m going to let my friend suffer and catch ill just because you can’t function on your own….”here, he fishes the oily papers used to transport the imo yaki from his pouch and waves them around, “or eat without being prompted, you’re mistaken!”

The younger man’s eyes widen. He brings a hand to his mouth like he wants to check for crumbs. Through the gaps between his fingers Madara catches a glimpse of a darting pink tongue and his brain. Just. _Stops_.

A high-pitched whimper – so low only an Inuzuka would have heard it – escapes him. (Kitsune winces.)

He’s always been aware that the Senju brothers are handsome – Hashirama, with his height and dark hair is more traditionally handsome than Tobirama who, because of his pale colouring, looks more exotic. He’d _known_. But it hadn’t prepared him for _seeing_ it.

Madara desperately tries to get his brain back on tracks, away from the mush bogging it down, but he can’t.

Because Tobirama is clearly interested by Kitsune.

Because Tobirama has equalled Kitsune’s knowledge in the sealing arts when Madara had been sure Kitsune was the best at it with how easy it had been for him to create seals from thin air.

That’s competence in a handsome package _and_ shared interest and he can’t un-see it! They’re enemies! Tobirama and Izuna have fought each other; have tried to kill each other for years! Not to mention that Tobirama is Hashirama’s little brother and it feels like a sacrilege to feel anything but platonic feelings towards him!

And Tobirama is powerful enough to go toe to toe against Izuna and not only survive but put him down more often than not. Madara knows his little brother’s level. He knows he’s near his equal and for the Senju to one-up him so easily… He twitches, eyes falling on the scene in front of him.

The white-haired Senju’s tongue is still chasing after the sweet taste of the baked potatoes on his lips and Madara would very much like him to stop doing that because he can’t deal with it!

The Uchiha takes a long breath and tries to think of something, _anything_, else. It doesn’t work. His mind has decided to stage a revolution and starts to assail him with images of how pretty tanned and pale skins would look like intertwined together. Of how it would feel like to have Kitsune’s encompassing presence surrounding him along with Tobirama’s water-thunder-ink’s own presence…

His brain breaks. The breath he just took escapes him in a faint gurgle.

(Behind Tobirama, Kitsune slowly lets himself slump to the ground, body shaking silently with supressed laughter.

Madara studiously ignores him, the dirty traitor.)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“You didn’t even try to poison me. Why?”

Madara has just about managed to scrap his wits from the ground when Tobirama asks his question. He’s still wrong-footed enough to only manage a weak scowl.

“Why would I? It’d be a waste of good food.”

“What he means,” Kitsune translates cheerfully, apparently well-versed in Uchiha-speak despite only being acquainted with Madara for two weeks, “is that Uchihas frown upon on using poison on non-hostile shinobi. Plus, you’re his friend’s little brother and he wouldn’t do that to him.”

“How nice of him…,” Tobirama deadpans.

Madara screeches at the affront. He wasn’t being nice or considerate or anything in between! Flailing for a bit, he remembers he has a projectile in his hands and that he’s not afraid to use it.

The ball of oily papers flops to the ground a few feet away from the younger man. The Senju looks down at it then up at Madara, a contemptuous eyebrow arched high on his brow.

The Uchiha ignores the traitorous blush slowly darkening his cheeks and swans off towards the inn.

“I’m going to bed.”

(Of course, proving he’s the bane of Madara’s life as well as his doom, Kitsune invites Tobirama to their shared room. Something about offering him board in recompense for making him traipse across half the country searching for Madara.

From his side of the room, Madara ignores them both.

He’s equally ignored when they start another debate on seal construction.)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Of course the Senju follows them. Of course.

Though, supporting his presence is well worth it when Madara witnesses his utter shock – all wide eyes and slightly hanging jaw and high stuttering – as Kitsune casually transforms into his female counterpart on the second day of their journey. That had been _epic_!

Unfortunately, the shock is short-lived and quickly replaced by curiosity. And Madara had to endure hours of chakra theories. Hours!

(When the conversation turns towards the creation of solid clones, Madara unashamedly eavesdrops.

It sounds interesting and highly useful.

Kitsune keeps cackling for hours like a lunatic when they finally hammer down the specifics and there is a doppelganger of each of them on the road.

Granted, Madara had to swear up and down to never use the technique against any Senju but Tobirama swore the same without prompting and the jutsu is so worth it.)

(Tobirama’s clone is even more silent than the original one, it endures with aplomb Kitsune’s clone poking at him and messing with his hair. His own clone has lost any inhibition Madara has and keeps physical contact with Kitsune’s double at all time, often hugging or just holding its arm or hand. Madara is highly jealous.)

He’d only caught a break from the torture – some of those debates last well into the night – each time they’d stopped at a shrine and Kitsune was doing his thing.

Or when the man meditated, floating shakujo and all. Of course, that had caused even more questions and theories.

(Madara takes those hours to send a message to his brother.

He tells Izuna everything that has happened since his return to Fire Country. From the black slime-creature and its abilities with Mokuton – including his suspicions regarding the death of their kin – to the sealing of it, to the Shrine Tour – as he’s begun to refer to what they’re doing – to Tobirama’s arrival and continued presence… He leaves nothing.

If he sent pages upon pages about how pretty and deadly Kitsune is, babbling about how lethal that smile of his is or how interesting but utterly terrifying that solid henge is… Well, that’s between him and Izuna.

However, he is careful to mention nothing of his newly discovered attraction to Tobirama. Izuna doesn’t need to know that particular development. Or he’d be liable to come protect his virtue, or something equally silly.

The fact that the infuriating younger man has decided to follow them around is not helping his growing infatuation. Seeing him so animated, so far from his usual cold and aloof persona, is jarring. Madara doesn’t know why the Senju restrains himself from showing emotions; he’s so pretty when he smiles.)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Of course, Madara’s surliness doesn’t last long. Before the two first days of their three-persons journey is over, he and Tobirama are already sniping at each other.

And they snip. Again. And again.

He doesn’t know what they’re fighting about, just that they are.

They’re still exchanging barbs four days later and Madara is on the verge of winning – he is, damn it! Stop laughing, Kitsune! – when Kitsune interrupts them.

“Can’t you two stop arguing for two minutes? We’re almost at the nearest village and I don’t want you to scare away the inhabitants like last time.”

The Uchiha and Senju almost spring away from each other.

“I’m not arguing with him!”

“We’re fighting! Not arguing!”

Madara glares at Tobirama, who returns the sentiment, when he realises they’ve talked at the same time.

The hooded shinobi snorts.

“You’re not fighting. In fact,” she continues, cutting the two off, “you’re not even attempting to reach for your weapons.”

They exchange a startled glance at the realisation they’re not at each other’s throat. They didn’t even try to kill the other, didn’t even try to make the other as much as stumble.

The idea didn’t even cross his mind. Not even when the Senju manhandled him into that alley. His first reaction had been to listen and then to accept his presence when not that long ago his first reaction would have tried to gut the younger man.

Even after, despite their difficult cohabitation, he’d never tried to make him leave and accepted his presence instead – with a lot of grumbling but no violence.

Judging from the crease on his brow, Tobirama is thinking along those same lines.

“Why?” The Senju asks. He’s calm, not a sign of threat in his body language; only the need to know seems to animate his features.

When Kitsune only tilts her head to the side in answer, he huffs.

“We’re shinobi. Ours clans are at war. Not using violence is foreign to us. And you seem far too pleased with yourself to have nothing to do with that change. You’ve been smug since I’ve met you.”

And Kitsune does, Madara realises with surprise. It’s faint but there is an air of quiet pleasure bordering on smugness surrounding her. He’d never sensed it before but Tobirama, as a gifted sensor, would have felt it upon meeting them.

Kitsune inclines her head in agreement.

“To be fair,” she muses, turning her face towards Madara, “it was a joint effort.”

The Uchiha twitches under the combined weight of the two others’ gazes. He frowns, combing through the events of the past weeks. It can’t have been the shrines; Madara did nothing at those and prior to meeting Tobirama, nothing of note had happened. Then…

“Wait, you mean that black thing?!”

Kitsune nods.

At Tobirama questioning glance, he explains:

“The day I met Kitsune, he was tracking some kind of weird slime-creature. He sealed it into a scroll and asked me set it on fire. As soon as it was entirely destroyed everything seemed lighter, somehow.”

“That was you?! How?!”

So the change in the atmosphere hadn’t sorely his imagination and had been felt by others, then. Uh, good to know he isn’t going mad.

Tobirama looks rather baffled as well as a bit dubitative. Madara understands, he feels like that, too. Each time he thinks back on that event, a part of his mind shies away from the reality and tries to convince the rest of him it was just a hallucination. Because, really, an unknown threat with mokuton had been put down like that in mere seconds?! It seemed so unreal… like… like using the moon in some sort of convoluted plan to take over the world.

Kitsune hums.

“That pest was a will given shape and sentience. The Person whose will he embodied is hell-bent on reclaiming all the chakra of the world. The consequence of which would the extinction of humanity.”

Oh, oh. Madara really doesn’t like the sound of that. And ‘reclaiming’ implies all sort of things that make him shiver in dread.

“That pest had been around for centuries, trying to free That Person from her sealed prison and pave the way for her victory.”

Madara really doesn’t like the sound of it. He really, _really_, doesn’t.

She continues with a cheerful tone that sounds both forced and angry:

“And what better way to hide his machinations than to pit against each other the descendants of the one who sealed That Person? With, of course, the added bonus of targeting all of the other shinobi clans.”

Suddenly, her voice turns serious and so cold and furious both Madara and Tobirama take a step back. Kitsune has always been happy, cheerful and carefree. Hearing her like that – so incensed the air blurs around her because of her agitated chakra – is jarring.

“After all, it wouldn’t do for the clans descended from the Sage of Six Paths to be on good terms, wouldn’t it? Better for them to be enemies, so embroiled in their war that they wouldn’t be able to see the end coming… That way, they’d never even think of becoming allies. And even if they did well, there is an obvious answer to that: kill members of one clan and frame the other.”

In the silence following her rant, everything seems to still.

Kitsune takes a long breath, then another, before straightening while rolling her shoulders to loosen them. Her hands flex on her shakujo – and where did it come from? Madara hadn’t seen her take the weapon from her storage scroll.

Slowly, little by little, the tension dissipates.

“The descendants…,” Tobirama is scowling, lips pursued in that particular way that means he doesn’t like the conclusion he just came to – and Madara had seen it several times those last few days. “You’re talking about the Senjus and Uchihas.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

Madara wants to deny, to say that he’s not related in one way or another to his clan’s traditional enemy but…

But it makes sense.

Their clans have been at war for so long no one remembers why they’re fighting. It’s been centuries since the beginning of the conflict. Centuries with no clear records.

And each there is some sort of truce, each time things become peaceful, something happens to start the conflict anew.

(Before his little brothers’ deaths, there had been little to no contact with the Senjus, Madara remembers.

Their clans had tended to ignore each other, content to remain wary and distant but non-hostile.

Until the child-killers had been sent after the heirs.

Who had killed Enka and Hotarubi? The Senjus? Or that creature?)

“Ootsutsuki Indra, the Sage’s eldest son, went on to found the Uchiha clan. His younger brother, Asura, founded the Senju clan,” Kitsune acquiesces. “With all the inter-marriages the Senjus tend to do, the Uzumakis can claim descent as well as several other Fire Country clans.”

“On that note,” she says to Madara, “you may want to check that Stone Tablet of yours. The Sage left it to Indra’s descendants but I really wouldn’t be surprised to if that pest tampered with it.”

Madara refuses to think about that. He’s pretty sure some of the elders have created a cult to that Tablet. If its teachings are false… He shudders. They’re going to stage a revolution.

“The Senjus’ records only say we descend from Ootsutsuki Asura and that he was of some relation to the Sage but it’s mentioned nowhere that he was his son. How do you know that?”

Tobirama is frowning, thinking. His tone isn’t accusing, merely curious.

“What? Did you think all the Senjus and Uchihas agreed to fight their own cousins?” Kitsune laughs, rueful and tired all at once, “I’m an Ootsutsuki, one of the last. If not the very last.”

Madara knows his jaw must be hanging in the vicinity of his feet. He doesn’t care. An Ootsutsuki. Kitsune is an Ootsutsuki!

(It explains why Kitsune knew of Amaterasu. That’s an ability that is said to have been Indra’s, too.)

He can’t quite stop himself from flailing around. He’s been raised on tales of Ootsutsuki Indra, okay?! Before meeting Kitsune, he’d only ever heard of one member of the Ootsutsuki clan, but still! There’d been speculations!

Old wives tales said the Sage of Sixth Paths had been an Ootsutsuki, though his relation to Indra had been on the iffy side even if there had been some theories about him being Indra’s father… As a child he’d often heard the elders mutter insults at the Hyuuga for claiming to be descendants of the Sage’s brother and at the Senju from daring to claim to descend from the Sage as well! Of course they were lying. Only they, as Uchihas, could be related to the Sage. Where else would the sharingan come from?

Theories of the Ootsutsuki clan’s might had abounded during his childhood. To meet one in the flesh – and Madara is not sure why but he believes Kitsune; he’s sure she’s saying the truth – is… really something.

(There is no way out of it, now: he has to bring them back to his clan. They’re family, if very distantly related, and so deserve to be welcomed as such by the Uchihas.

Also, Madara hasn’t missed her saying she was the last. He’s not leaving them alone.)

“That explains why you know,” Tobirama’s voice is a bit faint but his eyes are still intent. “But it doesn’t explain how you destroyed his machinations. Or why the atmosphere changed because it was gone.”

He starts back to the present.Tobirama’s right; why did that thing’s death cause the change?

Kitsune hums, tilts her head to the side, then asks an utterly baffling question:

“What colour is the sky?”

Madara is so surprised he reflexively looks up.

“Blue…?”

“Are you sure? It’s not blue for me.” Kitsune taunts, daring them to contradict her.

He checks the sky once again; from the corner of his eye he catches Tobirama doing the same. It’s true the sky isn’t really blue. Its colour is greyish instead of blue since it is late September and autumn is well on its way.

But…

But the sky has always been blue, right?

“Fine! If you want to be specific,” Madara huffs, “the sky was blue yesterday but it’s greyish today because it rained all night long!”

Kitsune chuckles; her light laugh almost sounds sad. She taps her shakujo against the ground. One. Two. Three times. Each tap sounds like thunder, sharp and sudden.

From the point of impact a large circle of glowing seals springs forth. It snakes under their feet and paints the road in eerie light. They stand on a stylised eye within a circle cluttered with strange symbols: a mismatch of seals and something else, something other, hair-rising.

Outside the circle, the world seems darker than before, muted and immobile. Like during an eclipse.

As Tobirama crouches down to examine the seals with a sound of interest, Kitsune points up with one finger. After a last dubitative glance towards her, Madara looks up.

He can’t quite stop a startled curse from leaving his lips.

The sky is black.

Not all of the sky is black; a few parts of it are the usual grey of autumnal sky, appearing almost luminescent in the gloom cast by the black.

It looks like someone took a brush and painted it with the darkest shade of black they could find.

The colour is uneven, thick. Some of it looks like it’s in relief and – when Madara squints in an effort to see them better, sharingan spinning to life to improve his sight – he can distinguish embossed designs in the sky. They’re similar to one of the oldest forms of seals Kitsune and Tobirama were discussing the day before.

Large chunks of the sky are cracked; as if someone threw a punch at it and it started to fracture like some kind of mirror.

As the Uchiha watches, one of the cracks widens. Now separated from the rest of the black construct, it starts to break apart with a loud crumbling sound, like glass shattering. Underneath it, the grey sky reappears.

With a start, Madara realises it’s the exact same sound he has always heard when they’ve left a shrine.

“It’s a curse,” Kitsune explains when they turn to her, “A malediction set upon the world centuries ago. It encourages distrust and paranoia, pushing people towards taking the wrong decision each time they have to make a choice. With it in place, it is literally impossible to even contemplate an alternate, better, solution.”

“Your brother,” she says to Tobirama, “is surprisingly resistant to it. But even he isn’t immune to it. His actions of late are proof of it.”

Madara blinks. Hashirama hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, nothing that could warrant such an accusation…

But…

But Tobirama’s eyes narrow and his mouth twists into a grimace.

“He wants peace.”

“Yes, he does.” She nods, genially. “But what has he done for peace since becoming clan head besides sending peace offers? Has he pulled away the patrols? Ordered his clansmen and women to defend and not attack? Ordered them to capture or maim instead of killing when encountering hostile Uchihas?”

Madara twitches. He’s not clan head, not yet. His father is still alive and in good health so clan’s matters are not his to deal with. Madara may have succeeded in convincing both his father and clan elders to not sending child killers and he knows Hashirama did the same when Butsuma was killed but… But even he can do nothing for peace between Senjus and Uchihas if Hashirama’s words do not align with his actions.

And Tobirama knows this, if his frown is any indication.

“And this…’curse’ is responsible for this disparity?”

“Maybe, maybe not. It could just be a character flaw of his: focusing on the bigger picture of peace between your clans over the details of how to build and achieve that peace. If that’s the case, the curse would have just exacerbated that flaw. The fact that he wants peace enough to go against your father is already a miracle in itself. Now that the curse is being dismantled, it’ll be easier to convince others.”

Suddenly, it makes so much sense. Madara knows several members of his family had been tired of the endless war but they’d been unwilling to make peace. That dichotomy has always been jarring for him, as well as a source of contention between him, his brother and the clan.

He had issues with believing in peace as time passed. Sometimes, he had thought that goal unattainable, a childish dream. And then, Izuna would come back from battle or a mission covered in blood and injuries, and the need for peace would reappear as if never leaving him.

“So, that curse is…what? How does it influence us?”

Tobirama looks like he’s on the warpath, once more reminding him of his grand-uncle Kisuke on a research binge and willing to do anything if it means finding out why things worked as they did.

“It works a bit like a voice at the back of your mind. With a side of exacerbating violent reactions: mild annoyance becomes anger, dislike becomes hate and so on and so forth. The curse makes you disregard any path of action that isn’t immediately beneficial to you or your family or friends. It doesn’t stop you from being nice or doing kind things, per say, it just…makes you focus on yourself and your immediate surroundings and future.”

“Short terms versus long terms?”

“Basically? Yes.”

The Senju looks dubious now. Madara must look like it as well because, while it makes sense, it seems so unreal. Too easy.

“But long term and short term are different depending on the person.”

“Hence why the curse affects people differently,” Kitsune laughs. “Or people like your brother, yourself or Madara wouldn’t be able to resist its influence.”

“Or people like you.”

“Or like me, yes.” Kitsune agrees easily. “But for me it’s more that I knew that pest was around and I can see the curse. Plus, well… I don’t like being told what to do, you know? Especially when the orders are stupid. And even more if the ones ordering me are self-centred idiots. And I knew the curse existed. Knowing it’s here makes it easier to resist its influence.”

“And now that…’that pest’ is dead, the curse is waning?”

“Er… Yes?” Kitsune fumbles for words, gesticulating wildly with her hands. “It’s…It’s… The curse is like a house.”

Madara can feel his eyebrow arch.

“What the hell does a house have anything with the curse?”

What kind of comparison is that?

“Wait, wait, wait! Let me explain!”

Kitsune flails around a bit and Madara is entirely satisfied that, for once, it isn’t him.

“That pest had created the curse. And if the curse is akin to a house then that pest was, like, the foundations of the house. Take out the foundations and the house is weakened but still standing, still here, right? If you do nothing, the house will fall down on its own but it’ll take time. Time this world does not have.”

Surprisingly, the explanation makes sense. Even if it had seemed a bit far-fetched at first.

“So, you’re taking down the house-curse yourself? By destroying what remains of the ‘walls’?”

“I am, yes.” Kitsune pulls on the edge of her hood, agitated. “There is a reason why I’ve been stopping at each shrine we encountered. They’re…They’re gateways, of a sort. The curse englobes the whole of the Elemental Countries and expands to the summoning realms but those realms aren’t the only ones out there. Those realms have been pushing against the curse – if only because they want their access to our world back in working order – and using the shrines as anchor points. I’ve been…opening the way, in a sense.”

Madara stares blankly at her. Is she…Is she implying that gods and spirits are real? Surely she isn’t. They’re not real, right? Right?

Tobirama seems of the same mind.

“Other…realms.” A white eyebrow twitches. “Spirits.”

“Well, yes? Is that so surprising?”

“Spirits.” His voice is flat, disbelieving.

Madara has the distinct impression Kitsune is rolling her eyes at them.

“You can walk on water, breath fire, store things inside scrolls by writing on them and sense people without ever seeing or meeting them and you’re surprised by the existence of spirits?!” She snorts, amused. “You are aware summons are a spirit sub-species, right?”

And, suddenly, the Uchihas’ cat summons’ propensity for chaos makes so much sense. With a groan he puts his head into his hands. Those little shits have a lot to answer! Do they descend from bakeneko or nekomata? He hopes they aren’t from the latter or a kasha line…

Tobirama is pinching his nose, eyebrows furrowed and looking like he’s fighting a headache. Madara is unsympathetic: he had to endure days’ worth of headaches while they were debating – without him – the merits of seals versus jutsu.

Kitsune snorts at them before smacking the ground three times with the butt of her weapon. The circle’s lines recede and disappear, taking with them the black sky.

Madara gazes at the grey expanse overhead as Tobirama mutters invectives under his breath – at the curse, at the youkai and perhaps a few ones at the gods, the utter idiot. If he’s cursed by a deity, the Uchiha refuses to take responsibility.

His sharingan is still active, he realises with a start. It has recorded everything and, in doing so, provided Madara with the proof of Kitsune’s truthfulness. His dojutsu would have noticed any sign of him lying.

And… And Madara’s thoughts screech to a halt.

Just for a moment Kitsune appears to be made of golden light. Her clothes and skin are alight broken only by black lines. Her face is bare, with no mask in sight, revealing round cheeks each marked by three thick black whiskers. She’s looking at the sky; her slit-pupiled eyes a fiery orange.

He blinks.

And Kitsune is back to normal, hood up and fox mask in place. But his sharingan has recorded everything. He will never forget what he has seen.

(She’s beautiful.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! Now you know why the Shrine Tour is necessary^^!
> 
> This version of “the curse of hatred” is different from canon. It doesn’t, however, absolve anyone from their crimes: they were all able to choose a different path. It would have been difficult but possible. If you want more explanation on the curse, I'll answer your question on Tumblr and, it'll be more explained in Naruto's part, once I've finished it (considering I've rewrittent the first four paragraphs five times, it'll be a while).
> 
> For Naruto claiming to be an Ootsutsuki: he’s actually saying the truth, even if he’s stretching it a bit…
> 
>   1. I headcanon that Minato was actually of Senju blood: there is a rather strong physical resemblance between him and, say, Tobirama (in fact, there’s a lot of fics playing on that trope).
>   2. So, Minato may come from a bastard branch or, like it’s the case here, from a Senju branch who had refused to fight their cousins and allied with like-minded Uchihas. That branch died off because of wars/Zetsu/epidemic/other. Hence that’s why Minato is both an orphan and believed to be clanless.
>   3. With Minato being of Senju blood and with Kushina as both an Uzumaki and, supposedly, blood-descended from a Senju as well, that makes Naruto into one of the more pure-blooded Ootsutsuki in a while  
In fact, that’s probably why he was chosen as Asura’s reincarnation/chakra-imprint vessel or whatever with him being descended from Asura on both side of his family, the same way Sasuke is descended from Indra.
>   4. Especially if I add what happens after he lands in the past… (which you’ll know when I’ll post that story…^^)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is going to be kinda like "The Voice (Roar) of My Soul" meaning that it's marked complete but I may add chapters to it if inspiration strikes.  
If you're interested, subscribe to the fic so you'll get an alert^^!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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